A Happy Life
by Cypher
Summary: One Camden, on her deathbed, examines her life, and decides it was happy after all. A short, one-shot one-person perspective honoring the most neglected Camden family member.


**A Happy Life**

_By Cypher_

How long have you been sitting there, stroking me and whispering soft, caring words into my ear? You're a grown man, now, out of the house and living on your own. I'm no longer with you, but you always come and visit, to make sure I'm okay even though I'm not yours any more. 

It's so hard to believe how fast you grew up. Your blond hair hanging loosely around your face, your eyes, gray as a stormy sky, filled with compassion and pain, all mixed together with salty tears. How many times have I helped you get rid of your tears and made you smile again? 

It was easy when you were little, when I first came. I didn't know where I belonged, but you showed me. You were my best friend, no, more than that. We were soul mates, destined to be together, to help each other through thick and thin. 

I remember how your face lit up when I came home, how your eyes brightened and you hugged me so tightly I worried about not being able to breathe. You weren't the only one, though. Your sister was happy to see me too, the one that always hung around you and sometimes annoyed you. I didn't scare her off, though. I knew she was teasing, and that you loved her any ways. 

You took care of me, fed me, bathed me, taught me tricks, and we had tons of fun. Even after that large vehicle hit me, you sat by my side, and though angry at your brother, you forgave him as I healed. 

I healed for you. I wish I could heal for you now, but I can't. My time's running out, and you still sit there, whispering to me. It's funny, I can't hear anymore, but I know exactly what you're saying. You're crying is making it difficult for you to see me, but you refuse to wipe your eyes. 

Crying has always been a part of your life. You're a very emotional boy, much more so than most others. It took you a while to realize that crying doesn't make you less of a man. 

A man. That's always been a big part of your life too, a part I never truly understood. You saw your brother as a man, your father as a man, and yet, never yourself. Becoming a man was always on the foremost of your mind. Why? You were a man. Every time you undressed, there was proof. That never satisfied you for some reason, though. I suppose it's a guy thing. 

You grew up far too fast. That was partially your brother's fault. I tried to keep you young, though, and I know that beneath those serious looks, you were a kid when you were with me. I could bring out the youth you thought you'd lost due to your brother. 

But I reminded you of what youth truly was. I helped you spy on the rest of your family, played with you, made you remember that being a kid doesn't mean being young. Even after the two new family members were brought to the house, I could remind you that while they were kids, you were a kid a heart. 

Your sister comes by your side, stroking my head just once, as if she's afraid her touch will finish me off. She's a strong one, and I'm glad I got to spend time with her, too. She never needed to be reminded to be a kid. She was intelligent, far above most for her species, but she kept young through mischief. I sometimes helped her, and sometimes I got you to join in on the fun, or to stop it. I'm glad when you left that she was the one who took over my care. 

When you left. It wasn't that long ago, and from time to time I've wondered if I'm dying of a broken heart, if your leaving is what has caused this condition. It hasn't, though. I hadn't been feeling well for a while, but I kept it hidden for your sake. Life was tough for you at that time. 

The time when you felt you were a man. You had less time for me, then. Sure, you took me for walks, and yeah, we played every now and then, but you had begun living your own life. I was proud, but I was also a little hurt. It was difficult seeing you leave so often. Did you ever think of me when you were out? Did you ever wonder if I felt lonely while you lived your life? 

I'm sure you did sometimes. There were times you came home and just spent hours talking to me, petting me, playing with me, doing everything you could except be in the real world. Avoidance. It's difficult to approve of, but I got to spend time with you because of it. 

There was the night you had all the strange rectangular things that rang on your bed, and picking one up caused you to cry. I knew you needed me, and I so wanted to comfort you. But there's just so much I can convey in a look or a nudge. And I realized, after you returned, that you left because someone else needed you. You confided in me on how painful it was to help people sometimes. I just kissed you and snuggled, keeping you company into the night. 

You spent more time with me and the family, and the family spent some extra time with me as well after the father went missing for a while. Something happened to make you, all of you, appreciate not just your lives, but all lives. 

About a year later is when you moved out. Your life was pulling you away from our home, away from me. I couldn't come, no matter how hard I tried or begged. You gave me to your sister, and promised to come by often. 

You did, at first, but then you came less and less. I slowly realized that you were leaving home, growing up and finding your place in this world. I had to accept that. 

And I did. Truth be told, the entire family has given me a great life. The parents, your sisters and brothers, everyone has always taken care of me when you haven't. I just loved you more than the others, because of our special bond. 

Nonetheless, life went on, and I felt myself getting older. I could no longer play with your sister, join her on her deeds of mischief. Your youngest brothers I could no longer keep up with. Your parents began paying closer attention to me. Despite the fact that I didn't always understand you and that we're so different, I was part of the family, and they were worried. 

You came home about a week ago, and you haven't left my side since. Every day it's been just you and me, sometimes going for a short walk, sometimes nudging the ball back and forth. Yesterday you held me in your lap and brushed my hair for hours and hours. You knew, as I did, my time was almost up. 

This morning, when I woke up, I couldn't move my legs. None of them. I let out a weak bark, and you were by my bed instantly. You told me it'd be okay, you told me to relax, but I could see in your eyes that I wouldn't survive the day. 

You yelled for your sister, yelled for your parents, even yelled for the Creator. You didn't want me to go, and neither did I. But all life must end at some point, all life must return from whence it came. 

And now I find myself wondering something I've had heard you ask time and time again. 

Do dogs to heaven? 

It's a silly question, of course. But when faced with one's mortality, it's a logical question. Most people don't realize just what deep thinkers we canines are. We do ponder life's mysteries, just as you do. We, however, realize that some mysteries shouldn't be solved. Why does the rain always make a person sad? What came first, the cat or the dog? Just what are hot dogs made of? 

Do dogs go to heaven? 

And these mysteries we shrug off, realizing we'll never know the answer, or if we do, it'll take the intrigue out of life. So we go and play, bask in the warmth of the sun, granted to us by the Creator. He made us in His image, you know. 

I close my eyes, feeling weaker. When I open them again, you're sobbing, your face red and damp from tears. I wish I had the strength to sit up and kiss that face, to stroke it with my tongue and show you that it'll be alright. 

I wish I could make you feel better, like I've always done before. 

But I can't. I can't do anything any more except watch you pet me and cry while your family comforts you. 

But they're not just your family. They're mine as well. And I'll miss them. 

It's harder to breathe, and I can feel my eyes closing even though I don't want them to. I know when my lids are closed I'll never see any of you again. 

Part of me wants me to try and jump up, to move, to do anything to stop the inevitable. But it's impossible. I don't even have the strength to breathe. 

I love you, all of you. Especially you, Simon Camden. You who rescued me from the pound, you who stayed with me when I was injured, you who fed me, took care of me, raised me until this very moment. 

I want to watch over this family forever, to never leave these people I love with all my heart, these people that have given me a happy life. 

Please, God, let this dog go to heaven. 

~*()*~ 

Disclaimer: I don't own 7th Heaven or any of its characters, they belong to Brenda Hampton. I'm just using them to explore my creative talents. Don't sue, I'm a poor college student. 


End file.
